


I Had You Before

by little_whittles



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-26
Updated: 2014-02-28
Packaged: 2018-01-13 21:47:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1241791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/little_whittles/pseuds/little_whittles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Stiles is finally rid of the Nogitsune, Scott has a hard time dealing with his feelings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Try To Forget How It Feels Inside, You Should Try Saying No Once in a While

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers up through 3.20 Echo House.

Stiles is awake. He's just been in a deep sleep, finally restful, but now he's surfacing into consciousness. The hospital room is dark, lit only by the displays of the machines. He thinks it must be night then, no sunny glow seeping through the curtain on the window.

He flicks his eyes toward the door and sees Scott in the chair by his bed. Scott's watching him nervously.

"Scott," Stiles croaks, because he's been sedated off and on to rest and his voice is under used. It feels raw and dry and he swallows.

"Yeah," Scott says, so so quietly, like he's trying not to wake Stiles, even though Stiles is already awake.

"How long have you-" he starts, but he sees the light glisten off Scott's cheeks when Scott turns his head. Tears are leaking from his eyes, and he pulls his hoodie sleeve over his knuckles to wipe them away. "Scott," Stiles says gently, pushing up to his elbows.

Scott lunges forward and hugs Stiles to him, probably harder than he should. Stiles is pretty beat up, and fighting major exhaustion. Exorcism will do that.

"We almost lost you. I-" Scott chokes out. He's shaking, Stiles can feel it against his chest where they're touching. Scott's petting his palm down Stiles's back, and it's soothing. It's good for Stiles to know that someone trusts that the Nogitsune is gone. That he's Stiles again, because sometimes he's not sure how much of him is really left.

"I'm okay," Stiles lies, He's not. He will be, maybe. Hopefully. But he's not okay right now. But Scott needs to be reassured, and it's working. Scott pulls back, but then his lips are pressed against Stiles's, mouth closed but pressure, pressure like he wants to communicate to Stiles what it means.

Scott breaks away, quickly inches back. He sniffles, wiping his cheeks again. Stiles's face is wet with his tears. "Sorry," he mutters.

"It's-" Stiles starts. Stiles knows he's bisexual; he _knows_ , has known. Thinks Scott's probably known. And, because he has eyeballs, he knows Scott is attractive. And he loves Scott, of course. But he always felt like that was as a brother. He'd really like to say he's confused, but he isn't. He has so many memories that exist with Scott, so much history, so much support and love. It's only confusing in the way that he's just now seeing it.

It was nothing like kissing Malia. That had been sudden and rash and probably a bad idea, considering everything. But he was a teenage boy, and who could blame him when a hot girl had kissed him, then taken her shirt off? It'd been the first time he'd made it to second base, and it had been pretty awesome. 

With Scott it was loaded and suffocating and complicated...

Stiles realizes he hasn't said anything to Scott for almost a full minute, has just been staring with his mouth open.

"Scott-"

"I'm sorry," Scott repeats. He steps back.

"Don't," Stiles says, because he knows Scott's going to bolt for the door. Scott takes another step away. "Scott, c'mon."

"Sorry." 

Scott's almost out of the room when Stiles quietly says, "Please don't leave me alone." He knows it sounds pathetic and weak and he shouldn't ask. But he's so worried something might happen, the Nogitsune might sneak back in and no one will be there to… to end it. He feels like he's been alone forever, trapped inside himself. And if begging is the only way to make Scott stay… "Please."

Scott stops, Stiles can see his outline in the shadow of the room. But he won't move from there.

"Sorry," Stiles whispers, and he doesn't think he and Scott have ever apologized to each other this much before in their lives. It works though, and Scott comes back and sits on the edge of the chair. He won't look at Stiles, but he's there. The IV by the bed time-releases morphine, and though Stiles wants to fight it so they can regain some sense or normalcy, his eyelids feel weighted and drop, and he falls asleep.

~

Scott's gone when he wakes up, which he unfortunately expected. But he's not going to let anything get messed up with him, and if Scott wants to talk about it, they will. And if he doesn't? Stiles sure as hell will ignore it in the face of best friendship.

Even though he's kicking himself for not kissing Scott back. For not, for once, just letting himself have something he thinks he shouldn't.

~

Scott only visits him when other people are around, and it's making Stiles pissed. Scott won't meet his eyes, and barely answers with more than one word to his texts. And Stiles isn't the one who fucked up! Not that Scott fucked up… but Stiles feels like he did something wrong, and shit, maybe he did by not grabbing ahold of Scott and never letting go. But he didn't know that was allowed! And now he feels like he's losing his best friend, and that's not going to happen. 

When he asks Scott to stay while everyone else is packing up, Scott makes a bullshit excuse and shuffles out, and that's about as much as Stiles can take. He texts Scott: _what the fuck?_ because seriously: what the fuck? But Scott sends back _what do you mean? had to work, sorry!_

Stiles feels kicked while he's down, and tells the nurses he doesn't want any visitors the next day, except his dad. Because sure, he's throwing himself a pity party. But he won't take it out on his dad.

~

"Scott," Derek sighs. Why is Derek already annoyed? Scott just got here, he hasn't even had the chance to do anything yet that might piss Derek off. Not that it takes much sometimes.

"What?" Scott says defensively.

"I can sense you shitty mood for two city blocks."

"Well, I don't need werewolf senses to know when you're cranky, so…"

Derek sighs again, and it makes Scott grimace. "Stiles is going to be okay," Derek says.

"I know. I know that."

"But?" Derek crosses his arms and Scott bitterly thinks that he never asked for an older brother.

"It's nothing, okay?" 

Derek raises his eyebrow skeptically, a look Scott thinks he's probably perfected in the mirror or something. 

"How about it's none of your business? What do you care, anyway?"

Derek looks a little hurt and Scott feels like a jerk, which just adds to the amount of jerk he already feels like because he stupidly kissed Stiles. What the hell had he been thinking? He hadn't been, he'd been too emotional and let his guard down and now Stiles is totally freaked out.

Scott flops down pathetically on Derek's couch, sinks into the leather cushion. "I did something stupid."

Derek's snort earns him a glare. "Sorry, but should I be surprised by this development?"

"You would be if you knew what I did," Scott mutters.

"Wanna… talk about it?" Derek seems physically pained to be making the effort, so no, Scott doesn't want to-

"I kissed Stiles."

Derek's eyebrows join forces with his hairline. He stares at Scott, maybe waiting for him to continue, or maybe still trying to figure out why Scott is such a moron.

"It wasn't… I didn't MEAN to, okay? I was just… he was safe, and I couldn't stop thinking about how he almost WASN'T, and I sort of just… I'm an idiot."

"Yeah," Derek concedes. And that's really helpful, thanks a lot. "So… you're… into Stiles?" he tries.

"I don't… I don't know?" Derek waits. "I mean, I'm straight, so-"

"I will never understand why humans have to label everything that way."

"I'm not human, remember?" Scott scowls.

"You were. You were raised by them. My family never… if you liked someone, it didn't matter about all that other crap."

"Do you… like guys?" Scott asks, afraid Derek might pummel him.

Derek shrugs, then sits down next to Scott. "I have. But he was human and I never had the courage to do anything."

Scott actually feels a little relieved, but then he suddenly asks, "Is it because I'm a werewolf that I like dudes now?"

"Do you like dudes? Or do you like Stiles?"

Scott doesn't have to think about it, he knows, but he pauses before answering, "Stiles."

"So what are you going to do about it?"

Scott tips his head back on the couch and closes his eyes. "Ignore it?"

"He texted me, you know."

Scott's very focused on him then. "And?"

"He wanted to know if I'd seen you. If you were acting funny."

"AND?"

"I hadn't, so how would I know?"

Scott narrows his eyes. "Are you going to tell him anything?"

"No." 

Scott sighs with relief.

"Because you should do it."

"And what am I gonna tell him, Derek? 'Hey, I know you're my best friend, and this is totally going to fuck that up, but I think I'm in love with you'?"

Derek looks oddly impressed and Scott doesn't get it until he says, "In love?"

Scott makes the most aggravated, pained noise, and Derek has the audacity to laugh at him. "You're a jerk."

"Scott, you can't ignore him forever. He needs you right now. He's been through hell and back, you don't know how something like that can…" Derek sags a little. "If you're not going to tell him, you gotta move past it and go back to the way things were."

"What if I can't?"

"You think you're the first person in history to deal with unrequited love? You deal with it."

Scott hunches forward, elbows on his thighs and head in his palms. "Fine," he says, muffled by his hands.

~

Scott doesn't deal with it right away. He makes the lamest excuses the next three times Stiles texts him. Stiles is seething, and partially wants to just give up, just write it off. But he can't write Scott off, because he doesn't think he can actually live without Scott. 

The day he gets discharged Melissa is there, and his dad. Stiles asks Melissa where Scott is.

"He said he and Isaac had something to do." She sounds sorry, like she doesn't buy it either.

"Is something going on?" Stiles asks quietly. "A new baddie or-"

"No," his dad cuts in quickly. "And even if there was, you are on a strict bed rest, no demon fighting leave of absence."

Stiles frowns. "Bed rest? I just bed rested for, like, four days."

"Doctor's orders," his dad replies. Melissa nods, then glances over her shoulder. Deaton is standing a few feet back, looking his usual calm self. He walks over to them.

"I know it's going to be difficult for you, Stiles. But you need to take it easy for a while. You've been through a lot," Deaton says.

Stiles rolls his eyes, which gets him elbowed lightly in the ribs by his dad. "Okay. Yes. Fine. I'll take it easy."

~

The second his dad is out of the house, he gets dressed and goes downstairs. He waits 10 minutes, being sure the cruiser's pulled out of the neighborhood, and goes to grab his Jeep keys. There's a note on the key hook where they should be.

_nice try. go back to bed._

Stiles groans. 

If this mission was less important, he'd be on the couch watching TV instead of walking the half mile to Scott's house.

It's warm out, and the sun feels good. He knows he's getting winded easier than usual - what the hell did the Nogitsune do to his insides? He feels like he has the flu and a cold all at once.

Stiles knocks on the door to Scott's house. No answer. He knows Scott's home, his bike is in the driveway. And even though Scott doesn't need it to get around quickly or easily, he loves that thing and always takes it anyway.

Stiles throws a pebble at Scott's window. He knows Scott knows he's here. He probably knew before he turned onto the street. 

Another pebble. Nothing. Fine.

Stiles is shaky when he climbs onto the porch railing, his arms tremble when he grasps the roof. He uses the flag holder as a foothold and pulls himself up slowly, gasping and squirming onto the shingles on his belly. He lays there, trying to catch his breath, and Scott finally throws the window open.

"Jesus, Stiles, what are you doing?" He sounds annoyed, and a little surprised.

"Oh good, you're home," Stiles pants, crawling toward the window. Scott grabs for him, helps him tumble through.

"You shouldn't be here."

And wow, that stings. Jesus. Scott must see the hurt, the anger on his face, because he quickly amends, "You should be resting."

"I would be if you bothered answering your texts." He's sitting on the floor, catching his breath.

"I do!"

"Fine. Maybe I meant if you quit blowing me off."

Scott looks guilty. And good, he should. That's really no way to treat your supposed best friend. "I'm not-"

"Oh please!" Stiles cuts in, getting to his feet. "You're the worst liar-"

"Fine! I'm sorry, it's just… I made a mistake, okay?" Scott looks down at the floor, and Stiles feels like he's been punched in the chest.

"You mean kissing me?" Stiles says, and he can't keep all of the bitterness out of it. Scott nods. 

"I was… it didn't mean anything, okay? Can we just, like, forget it happened?" Scott peers up at him through his lashes. Stiles feels hurt, and raw, but he'll do anything he has to just to get back what they had before.

"Of course! That's.. Scott, you should have just said that before. You didn't need to avoid me, or whatever. You're my best friend."

"Still?"

"Always. Dumbass." Scott smiles, and Stiles does too. Because this is better than the awkwardness. "Totally forgotten,"

~

Stiles can't forget. He can ignore, and pretend, and he does. Things settle back in, and they hit their stride as best bros again. But Stiles doesn't forget.

~

Scott doesn't forget. He acts like everything is back to normal, but when he's alone he sulks and still thinks about what he really wants but won't ever have. Because he's not sure what Stiles feels, and he's too cowardly to ask. Because he can't lose his best friend again.


	2. My Heart is A Grenade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott and Stiles are both doing their best to just be friends. Although they both think it's working, everyone else sees through it.

"This summer is so boring."

"Aw, c'mon, buddy! You're just saying that because there's no evil werewolves or giant lizards or demon me running amok for you to chase."

Scott laughs from where he's stretched out on Stiles's bed, his head hanging over the edge. He bends his neck to look at Stiles. "Maybe. Maybe because there's nothing to do either."

Stiles rolls the computer chair closer. "Well, let's think of something to do. What did we do before we tapped into the supernatural disaster that is Beacon Hills?"

"Played video games, watched movies, pined after girls we'd never get."

Stiles thinks for a moment. "Yeah, seems pretty boring after everything else. Plus, girls have already been gotten."

Scott sits up because all the blood is rushing into his head. "How are things with Malia?"

Stiles shrugs and smirks a little, because he now has experience to speak of. "She comes around sometimes. Uses me for my amazing make out abilities."

"I can't believe you're Peter Hale's daughter's booty call." 

Scott's laughing at him, but that's okay, because it's easy and their friendship is intact. The first month was rough, but Stiles pushed through and he's hung out with Malia twice and that kind of took his mind off things.

Okay, it didn't. But it made it easier to pretend.

Scott's having it worse, because he can't move past it. He's good at pretending, but while Stiles turned to Malia, he had to tell Kira he just wasn't into it. Which was shitty, because he kind of HAD been, and he felt like he was leading her on. She took it pretty well, but they didn't really hang out unless mortal peril was in store for them.

"I wish you could get drunk, that would be fun," Stiles laments.

"No kidding."

"I could get drunk and you could watch."

"Been there, done that," Scott sighs.

"Dude, it's so hot. Let's go swimming in Derek's building's pool."

"He HATES when we do that," Scott warned.

"Exactly. Come on!" Stiles jumps up and goes to his dresser. He digs through one of the drawers, then tosses a pair of swimming trunks at Scott.

Scott laughs and stands up. They turn their back to each other to change, and Scott doesn't have to fight not to look because he's in control of shit, thank you very much. But that doesn't mean he doesn't feel a pull, a shift in the room, a heaviness he knows he assigned to it.

"I'm gonna grab sun screen," Stiles says happily, and goes into the hallway bathroom. Scott finishes changing and meets him there, takes the towel Stiles hands him.

They ride together in the Jeep, shirtless and in their flip flops. It feels comfortable and brings Scott back to so many summers with Stiles, smelling like Coppertone and letting the wind move through his hair. It's a good memory, but it crushes his heart because he knows he's not over Stiles like he should be, like he said he'd be. But he's a better liar than Stiles gives him credit for.

~

Stiles parks in his usual spot at Derek's building. Weird that he has anything usual to do with Derek. It really helped when Derek stopped being as big of a butthole. They get out of the Jeep and Stiles follows Scott. He allows himself to look at the tanned skin of Scott's shoulders, the slope of his back, because who has to know? Scott's obviously done what he said and forgotten it ever happened. Stiles may not have, but he'll go through the motions and take these little moments for himself.

The water is sun warmed but cooler, and Stiles bounces happily across it, does a horrible backstroke over to a pool noodle floating in the deep end. He tucks it under his arms and kicks over to Scott, who's climbing onto a floating chair.

"Told you this would be nice. Still bored?" Stiles asks.

Scott makes a pleased noise that sends shivers up Stiles's neck. He's going to log that one for later.

"Why are you in my pool? Again?"

They both turn their eyes to Derek, squinting at the sun behind him.

"It's not YOUR pool," Stiles points out. "It's the building's pool."

"And you don't live in the building," Derek says. He peels off his shirt and Stiles notices he's in his trunks already. Derek cannonballs into the deep end and Scott laughs.

"Are you actually going to do something fun? Right now? With us?" Stiles feigns surprise. 

Derek splashes water at him, hits him in the face.

~

Derek and Scott both have their eyes closed to the sun, their pool chairs tapping together as the water laps at them. Stiles has run up to Derek's loft to pee, causing the water to ripple when he goes.

"So," Derek says.

"Mmm?" Scott replies lazily.

"Still not over it, huh?"

Scott looks at him, wide eyed. "You can tell?"

Derek grins, but it's not mean. "Don't worry; he can't."

"Wolf senses for the win."

"No, I'm just not a blind idiot," Derek corrects.

"He's not an idiot," Scott mutters.

"You could tell him, yanno."

Scott looks down at his hands. "Too risky."

Derek sighs and opens his mouth to say something else, but Stiles is running (despite the no running sign, Derek really is unsurprised) and jumping in, throwing waves over the pool edge.

~ 

Stiles drops Scott off at home, tells him not to worry about the swim trunks. He's almost dry from the heat and the breeze coming in from the window. He feels really, really good for the first time in a long time. It was a good day, and even Derek was pleasant. He's really almost like a friend now, a good friend, and Stiles didn't see that coming at all.

He's getting used to werewolves, which is obvious by the fact that when he finds Malia in his room he's not at all surprised. Okay, she's a were-coyote, but close enough.

"Hey," she smiles. She's sitting on his bed, legs crossed at the ankle. She's casual and calm, and Stiles likes that. "Swimming at Derek's?"

"Yeah," he says. She gets up and walks over to him, leans in and kisses him. He lets her, kisses her back for a second. But then he's overwhelmed by a sense of anxiousness, of guilt. He gently takes her by the shoulders and eases away,

"What? Did I do something wrong?" She's teasing him a bit, but frowns when she sees his face. "Um, what's up?"

"I - I don't think I can…"

"Okay… I thought you were into this…" She's not upset, which is nice. But she's confused, and he knows he owes her an explanation.

"I was. I mean, you're hot, and making out is awesome. But I… I think I'm in love with someone."

He thinks maybe now she'll be upset, but she grins instead. "Then why are you, like, not happy?"

"Because he doesn't know."

Malia raises an eyebrow. "He?"

"Yeah," Stiles confirms, and he's not ashamed.

"So, why doesn't he know?"

Stiles sighs. "Because it would ruin everything probably?"

Malia smirks, looks too much like her dad when she does. "It's Scott, isn't it?"

"Oh my god am I that obvious?"

Malia shrugs. "No. I mean, it just makes sense. You should tell him."

Stiles rubs his hand over his eyes. "Did you miss the part where I said it would ruin things?"

"Why would it? He's totally into you."

Stiles stares at her. His heart is thumping, he can feel it. She can hear it, he knows, because she glances at his bare chest. "What?" he says after a few seconds.

"He likes you."

"As a friend," Stiles supplies.

"No."

"No?"

"No. Like, more than that."

Stiles sits on the edge of his bed, lets his head do the spinning it's going to do anyway. "I'm sorry. What?"

Malia rolls her eyes and this time looks more like Derek than Peter. "I could tell."

"You could tell?" he says slowly.

"Yeah. When he and I were out looking for you, when you were possessed. In retrospect, I shouldn't have told you any of this until after we made out. Eh, oh well."

"Well… oh my god, what should I-"

"You should tell him."

Stiles snorts. This doesn't make any sense. "That doesn't make any sense. Then why did he tell me to forget about the fact that he kissed me?"

Malia looks pained by his stupidity and he frowns at her. "Look," she starts, "he kissed you and you thought he wasn't in to you? Stiles, seriously?"

"Well…"

"Ugh, jesus, just go tell him. And let me know if you have any hot, single friends that want to make out." And like a true Hale, she leaves through his window.


	3. You Were The Last Good Thing About This Part of Town

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles goes to Scott's house to tell him how he feels.

Stiles throws a t-shirt on and gets back in the Jeep, drives back to Scott's house. He can do this. He can, he can, he will, seriously.

He rushes in through the front door without knocking because it's better to just go with the momentum he's gathered, but he comes to a screeching halt when he discovers Isaac and Derek standing in the kitchen.

"What the hell, where's Scott?" They look at each other but don't answer. "Oh shit. Oh shit, did something happen? Is he like, kidnapped or-"

"Stiles. He went to pick up pizza," Derek interrupts. He's looking at Stiles like he's deranged.

"Oh. Right. Is there a pack meeting or something? Wait, why wasn't I invited? Did Scott not want me here?"

Isaac pinches the bridge of his nose. "Dude, check your phone."

Stiles pulls his phone out from his now-dry swim trunks' pocket. He has one new message from Scott:

_pack meeting in 20. getting pizza. come over_

"Oh," he says stupidly. Lydia and Allison have arrived and have to push him farther into the house so they can get in.

"What's up?" Allison asks, noticing Derek and Isaac staring at Stiles.

"Stiles?" Derek prompts, because Stiles is being weird. Even for Stiles.

"Nothing. Pack meeting. Nothing," Stiles lies, words fast and awkward.

"Jesus. He's in love with Scott!" Malia says from behind him in the door way.

"Oh my god, oh my god!" Stiles shouts. But everyone else just nods. They look like they're waiting for more information. "You all knew?"

"Well, we kind of have these abilities," Isaac snarks. 

Stiles glares at him but turns to Allison. "You don't have abilities." She raises an eyebrow which implies she might shoot him with her crossbow. "Okay, but not supernatural ones. So you didn't know."

Allison laughs, but it's not cruel. "Even I knew."

"So why doesn't Scott know?" Stiles laments.

"Sometimes it's hard for the one involved to be sure," Malia says.

"So Scott has no idea?" Stiles clarifies.

"No idea about what?"

And Scott's behind him, and Stiles can't turn around, and his heart is going to crack a rib if it doesn't settle down.

"Um," Stiles says, slowly turning. He takes the pizza boxes from Scott's hands, and man do werwolves eat a lot, because this is a serious amount of pizza. 'That I don't like olives on my pizza?"

Isaac chokes back a laugh and Stiles gives him the most threatening look her can muster.

"Dude, of course I know that. You've hated olives since you threw them up in 4th grade." Everyone's looking between Scott and Stiles. "Um, what's going on?"

"Stiles needs to tell you something," Lydia speaks up, looking delighted.

"Okay. Can it wait till after the meeting?" Scott asks.

Stiles sighs, his shoulders sagging. "No."

"Seriously? Stiles, it's just, like, 30 minutes or whatever-"

"Can we at least eat?" Malia asks.

"This is not dinner and a show!" Stiles hisses, but she takes the pizzas anyway and digs in.

"Scott, I…" Stiles starts. He feels itchy all over, like when your leg falls asleep and the tingles start zinging through it. "I, uh… it's just…"

Stiles sort of hopes that one of the others will jump in again, tell Scott for him. But when he glances at them, they're all just chewing pizza and waiting. Jerks.

"I like you."

Scott smiles, genuine and wide. "I like you too, buddy." He pats Stiles's shoulder.

"Ugh, no, I mean… okay. Here we go. Heeeerrrreee we go. Okay. I love you."

Scott blinks at him. Either he doesn't get it, is too shocked to answer, or hates him. He's going to optimistically assume it's the first one and try again.

"I'm _in_ love with you."

Stiles waits. He actually flinches a bit, but he doesn't think Scott will hit him or anything. He just thinks the rejection might knock him on his ass.

"Oh!" Scott says, and it's like a revelation. Stiles braves a look at him out of the corner of his eye, and Scott's smiling, and it's like looking at a 2,000 watt lightbulb. Stiles can't seem to do anything, just stands there. Scott leans in and kisses him so gently on the lips, then pulls away.

Stiles, ever so subtle, dives after his mouth, but Scott laughs and braces his hand on his chest. "After the meeting," he teases quietly. Stiles is so happy he restrains himself from punching Derek for doing a slow clap.

Scott links their fingers together and tugs Stiles over to one of the kitchen chairs, which they end up sharing even though they both only have one butt cheek on it. They separate hands so they can eat, and Scott doesn't stop smiling.

"So, what's this meeting about?" Stiles asks, weight lifted from his shoulders and also grinning like an idiot.

"Oh, that was it. I called Derek to set it up," Malia says with a wink.

Stiles's jaw drops. "You set up a meeting for us to hook up?"

"What, it worked, didn't it?" Lydia seconds. "We were just so over the pining. The moping. Now everyone's happy!"

Stiles is so relieved he doesn't even have it in him to shoot them a witty comeback.


	4. We're Always Sleeping In and Sleeping For the Wrong Team

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pack meeting is over. Scott moves things to his bedroom.

Stiles stands in the doorway to Scott's room. Scott's practically run in, and he's laying back on the bed, smiling widely. Scott notices Stills isn't making a move, and his smile slides into a frown.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," Stiles nods.

"Is… is it weird?" Scott's a little nervous that this could still crash and burn. A lot nervous. And Stiles's hesitation isn't helping.

"A little. I mean, isn't it?" Stiles is fiddling, pinching his own fingers.

"We don't… have to. We could still go back to-"

"No!" Stiles cuts him off quickly. "No, that's not…"

Scott grins, just a little, not sure he should. "Well then, come here." 

When Stiles doesn't respond right away, Scott throws a pillow at his head. It hits Stiles in the face, and he grabs it, revealing a glare. "Is that your idea of foreplay?"

Scott's smug. "I could… show you my idea of foreplay?"

Stiles finally returns his smile, takes his time walking over to the bed, then drops down next to Scott. He curls his fingers in Scott's shirt and tugs him forward, kissing him lightly.

Scott licks across Stiles's lips and Stiles opens his mouth, lets Scott inside. 

Either Stiles is naturally gifted, or a quick learner, because Scott is already pulling him closer and moaning into Stiles's mouth. Stiles gasps in response and they both start laughing, breaking away but not going far.

"Okay, this is awesome," Scott says softly.

"Yeah?" Stiles asks, because shit, he really isn't sure. Scott presses forward so quickly to show him, and smacks their noses together. They pull back, both cupping their noses, laughing again.

"Were you this slick with Allison?" Stiles teases, but then quiets quickly. Scott guesses he probably thinks that was awkward, but it isn't. Scott got lucky, Allison is the best ex you can have.

"Not once I was less nervous," Scott says, running a hand up Stiles's arm. They're lying facing each other.

"You're nervous? I make you nervous?" 

"Well," Scott rubs his nose again. "I mean, I'm excited. And I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little worried about, yanno… things could still go badly."

"Scott, I know there's no way to guarantee this, but if it doesn't… do you think we could still be friends?" Stiles sounds small, and it's heart breaking. It kind of makes Scott want to call it off, because he doesn't want to ever lose Stiles. Maybe he's too selfish, though.

"I don't think I can _not_ be your friend. I mean, Allison and I are still friends… and you and Malia-"

"Malia wasn't my girlfriend," Stiles corrects.

Scott shrugs. "Maybe I'm a jerk, but I want to take that chance."

"Is that you or your boner talking?"

Scott laughs. "Dude, you noticed my boner?" Stiles smirks and nods. "I can't lie, it's partially my boner." He gets serious: "But. I love you. Like, _love_ you, love you. But if you don't want-"

"Apparently you failed to notice my boner, because I want," Stiles jokes, and Scott's eyes go wide for a second as he glances between them.

"Very tactful, Scott."

Scott laughs again, looking up past Stiles. "Sorry, sorry."

"Yanno, you could always check that out with, like, not your eyes."

Scott looks at him blankly, because once again, Stiles is talking above his head. Stiles rolls his eyes and takes Scott's hand, presses his open palm over the bulge in Stiles's jeans.

"Oh," Scott says with realization.

"Oh," Stiles gasps.


	5. Wishing To Be the Friction In Your Jeans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, sexy times!!!

Scott's hand is on Stiles's dick. Yeah, okay, there's boxers and jeans in the way, but it's there. Stiles is trying diligently not to shove forward.

Scott breathes through tight lips. "Wow,"

"Wow?" Stiles repeats. "Wow good? Is this an impressed wow?"

"I've just never… done this before."

"That makes two of us. Is it okay?"

"Are we gonna ask each other if everything is okay?" Scott asks.

"Maybe!" Stiles says defensively. "I don't want you to do something ah-" Scott cuts him off by stroking his hand upward. "Okay, that's… keep doing that."

"Yeah," Scott hums, leaning in to kiss him. Stiles moans when Scott nips down his jaw and sucks on his neck. Stiles rolls on top of Scott, knocking his hand away. He presses his hips down, can feel Scott's dick against his hip.

"Whoa, uh…" Stiles says. 

"Yeah," Scott agrees, his voice breathy. 

Stiles rocks a little, slides to the left, and that's really-

"Oh fuck that's good," Scott provides.

"Oh my god stop, just-"

Scott is actually concerned, he looks punished and Stiles shakes his head quickly to stop his line of thinking right there.

"No, I didn't mean… I'm just a little worked up over here, okay? Still a virgin, really, really horny, just mounted my best friend who just happens to be really good looking, so. Trying to keep my cool here, buddy."

"What a coincidence, my best friend is really good looking, too," Scott says slyly, devious smirk replacing his worried expression.

Stiles laughs, thinks he sounds a little hysterical. "Okay, that was smooth."

"Can I be a little less smooth and a little more direct? Cuz I'd really like to get you naked."

Stiles's eyes widen and he must look funny, Scott's adorable giggle says so. "Uh, yeah, I…"

Scott rips his shirt down the middle, just tears it, and Stiles is wearing it as a jacket now.

"What the utter fuck, Scott?" Stiles chastises him.

Scott actually pouts, lip poking out. "I thought it'd be sexy."

"Yeah, okay. Well, it is, but what if I liked this shirt?"

"Stiles, it's _my_ shirt."

Stiles looks down, purses his lips, looks back at Scott. "Ah."

"But don't make me do that to your swim trunks."

Stiles rolls off of Scott, managing to elbow him in the ribs in his scramble. He lifts his hips off the bed and tears the trunk off, then promptly turns a deep shade of red.

"Ah, right. Swim trunks. No underwear. Well, this is-"

Scott derails his train of thought by licking a hot stripe of saliva up his cock.

"Jesus fucking jesus!" Stiles curses, making Scott laugh again. "I didn't… that was unexpected."

"Unsolicited?"

"Man, those SAT words are really - holy christ okay yeah, yeah." 

Scott's shut him up again by taking the head of Stiles's dick into his mouth.

~

Scott's never given a blow job before, obviously. But he figures neither has anyone who ever eventually _does_ , so it's not like he can feel any more apprehension than, say, Allison did when she first did it to him.

He's seen plenty of porn, and gotten a couple bjs, so he thinks he can figure it out. Plus, Stiles has never had one, so he won't be able to spot Scott's inexperience. And any dude who complains about a mouth on his dick is just an idiot.

Scott had gone down on Allison a handful of times, and she never complained. Granted, she never came from that either. But Scott came every time she sucked him off, so he thinks the odds are in his favor.

Scott knows the basics: cover your teeth, don't gag, keep pubes out of your mouth. In porno, the person giving the blow job never seems to be enjoying it very much, basically just rushing for the money shot. Scott always liked it better slow and steady, a build up.

So that's what he goes with.

He holds the base of Stiles's cock, slips his lips down until they reach his fist, slides back up. Laps his tongue over the head, uses pressure when he goes back down. He's not surprised that Stiles is babbling, kind of expected he would.

"Oh fuck seriously, seriously. Oh my god, Scott. Fuck, holy shit, fuck…"

Scott almost laughs, but it's hard to laugh with a dick in your mouth, so he keeps going. Starts moving his hand with his mouth, saliva dripping over his knuckles.

Being this close is almost suffocating; Scott's werewolf senses are pinging off the radar, he can smell Stiles's arousal, it's thick and almost palpable. He inhales deeply and his own cock throbs in his jeans. He wonders if Stiles even notices when he edges closer, starts grinding his crotch against Stiles's calf.

Stiles is suddenly shoving at his shoulders, which would be confusing if Scott didn't already know-

"Fuck Scott, I'm gonna come, oh god, oh god-"

Scott feels his stomach drop and his cock twitch, and he moans over Stiles's dick. Stiles comes, almost shouting, and Scott's really glad his mom isn't home. Stiles is shaking and Scott tastes him on his tongue, and it's intoxicating. He feels light headed. It's not as bad as Scott thought it would be, and he swallows.

"Fuck," Stiles says in a slow exhalation.

Scott pulls his mouth away and flicks his eyes up. Stiles is staring at him, mouth open, panting. Flush creeping down his neck. 

"That's the best thing that has ever happened to me," Stiles croaks. Scott smiles. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

Scott's heart clenches in the best way and he crawls up next to Stiles and kisses him with swollen lips.

~

Stiles lets Scott lick into his mouth, tastes himself there, and shudders. Scott is awesome. Blow jobs are awesome. Everything is pretty much awesome.

Even though his body is sated, his brain still needs, so he reaches down, squeezes Scott through his jeans. Scott moans into Stiles's mouth and Stiles pulls open the button, slowly and haltingly tugs down the zipper, and slides his hand under the elastic of Scott's boxers.

Stiles trails his fingers down the heat of Scott's cock, wraps around it the best he can with the restriction of clothing.

"Okay, seriously. This is ridiculous," Stiles says, flustered, gesturing between them. He's completely naked and Scott's completely clothed. Scott grins, then sits up to pull his shirt off, bridges up to ditch his jeans and underwear.

Stiles stares, because Scott is hot. Hot like burning. Jesus. Stiles crawls half on top of him, crushing their lips together. His hand rushes to Scott's dick, lightly moving up and down.

When he pulls away to twist toward the lotion on the nightstand, Scott whimpers.

"Dude, I'm gonna take care of you, don't worry. No one likes a dry handsy though," Stiles tells him seriously, and it makes Scott laugh. Stiles pumps the lotion into his palm, rubs it in his hand to warm it up a little, then gets right back to it.

Stiles has a lot of practical experience touching dicks. Okay, touching his dick. But he thinks that still counts. And he's watched a lot of porn, and yeah, he really likes cock. He's pretty sure he's going to like everything about it, once he gets up to speed. He's a fast learner.

Scott's eyes are closed and his head is tipped back. The muscles in his neck are tight, his jaw clenched. Stiles thinks, _I'm doing this. This is me, making this happen._ He feels kind of smug.

Stiles pays attention to the way Scott reacts to different things. They might not like the same technique, or pressure, and he wants to make this good for Scott. He wiggles higher up to kiss Scott again, rolls his slick thumb over the head of Scott's cock.

Scott gives a broken cry and tenses, and Stiles breaks the kiss because he wants to see. Scott's holding his breath. Come shoots onto his chest, drips down Stiles's fingers.

"Fuck that's hot," he mutters. 

Scott's eyes pop open, he gasps in a breath. "Stiles, Stiles, Stiles, jesus," he babbles, and Stiles slows, eventually stills.

Scott's chest is heaving, and he throws his arm over his eyes.

"Um. I hope that was-" Stiles starts, pulling his hand away.

"What do you think?" Scott teases, grinning crookedly. He moves his arm, pushes up to kiss Stiles sweetly.

Stiles smirks and eases over off of Scott, props himself up on one elbow. "So. Sex is pretty awesome."

"Mmm," Scott responds.

"I mean, if that counts. Did it count? Am I still a virgin?"

"Not for long," Scott says, then he laughs at Stiles's wide eyed expression.


End file.
